


and i promised myself i wouldn't let you complete me

by wlwtonystark



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Flip Phone, Hurt Tony Stark, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Pining Tony Stark, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, steve is kind of an asshole
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:53:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23688739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wlwtonystark/pseuds/wlwtonystark
Summary: “I honestly didn’t think you’d reach out.”Tony’s heart skips a beat when he catches Steve’s face in the mirror. It’s fucking embarrassing how quickly the hatred in his body is replaced by a lovesick longing.“I’m definitely going to need you to wipe that damn smirk off your face,” he says, not yet ready to turn around and face him.“And I definitely have no idea what you’re talking about,” Steve says, as the small grin on his face grew wider.The one where Tony uses the flip phone.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 6
Kudos: 66





	and i promised myself i wouldn't let you complete me

**Author's Note:**

> It's 2020 and I'm writing a flip phone fic, because the Russo's can pry this trope from my cold dead hands. After years of lurking in this fandom my friend finally convinced me to write something. Please be gentle.
> 
> Loosely based on Is There Somewhere by Halsey. If you want to be immersed, I recommend listening to it.  
> And with that, please enjoy. :)

Tony wrinkles his nose as he watches a cockroach run from behind the television to under the bed. With a shake of his head, he set down his hat and sunglasses and exhaled deeply. The neon sign outside reads _OTEL._ Tony can’t imagine why a place like this would have vacancy available.

The blinds on the window are tattered and broken, but the night sky does enough to shield him from sight. He opts to turn on the bathroom light, and hopes the darkness of the rest of the room will grant him some sliver of anonymity.He’d taken other precautions, of course. He’d left his phone at the tower, knowing that Rhodey or Pepper would kill him if they caught wind of what he was trying to do. Without his suit or his tech, he was borderline untraceable. 

Besides, the only thing he really needs is in the pocket of his suit, with an opened text message;

_Room 93. The key is under the mat._

The mirror is cloudy, and one long crack runs from the top right corner to the bottom left. Tony stares at the man looking back at him. How he could ever have looked himself in the eyes and not feel the ever familiar weight of guilt and disgust, he’s not sure. Eight years seems like yesterday and a lifetime ago, and without the steady burn of whiskey to dull the weight of his actions, every day feels longer and longer.

And now? Without him around? It’s even worse. 

Steve made living seem easy. When Steve looked at him, the euphoria that overtook him surpassed the effect of any drink or any drug. And god knows Tony had tried them all. When Steve moved into the tower, he’d stopped needing to blare his music to drown out his thoughts when he worked. Strongly preferring the tranquility that came from knowing Steve was doodling in the corner as Tony tinkered. The peace as they quietly drank in each other’s presence without the need for conversation, with only Dum-E’s quiet beeps to break the silence. When Steve started sharing his bed, his nightmares slowly dissipated until his time with the Ten Rings felt more like a distant memory, and less like a life sentence of misery he was forced to relive night after fucking night.

God, when Steve was around, recovery felt almost effortless.

But then came the accords. And then Siberia.

_Fucking Siberia._

When that shield had hit his arc reactor like a reset button, completely uprooting the life he’d made and landing him right back where he’d started; alone, numb, and looking for happiness at the bottom of the bottle.

He tries not to think about it.

He hates Steve for what he did. For lying, for leaving, for sending that fucking package. For disappearing.

“I honestly didn’t think you’d reach out.”

Tony’s heart skips a beat when he catches Steve’s face in the mirror. It’s fucking embarrassing how quickly the hatred in his body is replaced by a lovesick longing. 

“I’m definitely going to need you to wipe that damn smirk off your face,” he says, not yet ready to turn around and face him. 

“And I definitely have no idea what you’re talking about,” Steve says, as the small grin on his face grew wider.

"You’re acting incredibly cheery for someone who’s currently an international fugitive.” Tony finally turns to greet Steve who, whether by habit or overwhelming emotion, captures Tony’s lips in for a kiss. Tony reaches to grasp at his arms, and they soak each other in the same way they had countless times before. Steve’s hands begin to slide down his back and draw Tony in closer...

 _This isn’t why you came here._ With all the strength he can muster, Tony pulls away and clears his throat, glancing just beyond Steve’s shoulder. “Whoa there, Swayze. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. You’ve got a lot of nerve pulling that after what you’ve done. I’m definitely expecting an apology if you’re wanting to get some. The whole shebang. Groveling, crying, a dramatic declaration where you fall to your knees and beg for forgiveness in more ways than on--” 

“Tony.” Steve’s smile has lessened, but not disappeared completely. His voice, however, is steady and doesn’t carry even a trace of amusement. “I think we both know that there’s blame to be had on both sides here,”

“How’s Bucky?” Tony asks.

That wipes Steve’s smile clean. “You know that’s not fair.” 

Tony takes another step back, and ignores the voice in the back of his head that’s telling him to _let it go_ and just _give in_ to what he so desperately seems to crave.

“No, you see what’s not fair is promising to spend the rest of your life with someone and then running away the moment your pal Soul Surfer offers you a better deal.”

“This was about more than Bucky, and you know that. Those accords were criminally ignorant and it would have been foolish for me to play along. How you were able to willingly go along with them is beyond me,” Steve sighs, taking a seat on the bed. “If anything, you abandoned our relationship long before I did. You made it clear how you felt when you signed your name without talking it through with me.”

“Because I knew that the only way we were ever going to change anything about that agreement was to be on the inside! I knew that if we put our foot in the door, we could get them to budge. But I wanted to do it with you! Together! Isn’t that what you’re always pushing? I guess only when it’s on your terms, huh?”

“If it makes you feel any better, I do feel terrible for what I did.” And as mad as Tony might be, he recognizes the sincerity in those deep blue eyes. “I’ve barely slept since that night.”

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t try to interrupt me right now, I’ve had this speech planned since Germany,” he says, his voice soft as he slowly takes a seat beside Steve. Steve smiles, still looking straight ahead as Tony eyes a stain in the carpet.

“I have missed you, Tony.”

Tony ignores the way those words make his eyes burn, and instead leans to rest his head on the other man’s shoulder.

“I didn’t come here to argue with you,” Steve whispers.

“I know,” Tony replies, with a soft laugh. He turns his head up, finally daring himself to make eye contact. “But we’re so good at it.”

And then their lips are pressed together once again, and Tony wants to hate the way it feels, like he’s suddenly recharged. Because Steve is the final piece in the puzzle Tony tried to lock away in the closet and forget about. 

“You know, if this was your plan all along I could have definitely booked us a nicer place,” Tony says, catching his breath. Steve laughs, and captures his lips once more. 

When they are like this, Tony can almost pretend things are normal. Like this never stopped. He can almost forget. 

Until he wakes up alone.

The other side of the bed is made, the sheets pulled tight and Tony can tell that the covers have been tucked under the mattress. An old army habit Steve could never break. He smiles and reaches to feel the white bed sheets, and that’s when his hand registers _cold_ and suddenly Tony can feel nothing at all.

He’s not sure how long he lays there, eyes glued to the ceiling and his hand over his heart. The irony is not lost on him. It could almost be comical, the way he finds himself in the exact same broken position as the last time Steve left him. It was cold then too.

What was that definition of insanity again?

Doing the same thing over and over, and expecting different results?

He finally lifts himself from the bed and makes his way to the bathroom, glancing at the dark marks clashing violently against his pale neck. He wonders how he could ever have looked himself in the eyes and not feel the ever familiar weight of guilt and disgust, and Tony lifts his hand to trace the crack in the mirror as the tears begin to pool in his eyes. And then the counter buzzes.

_I’m sorry._

Another buzz. Tony wonders who’s paying the 15 cent-per-text charge.

_Had to be out before dawn._

Tony carefully sets the flip phone back down on the counter, and wipes his eyes. He leaves the phone in the bathroom as he packs his things quickly and silently, and heads for the door. He hand grips the knob, and glances up at the ceiling. He curses silently before he slips back into the bathroom and pockets the phone.

He leaves the _Okay. I love you._ message in the drafts.

He considers it progress.

**Author's Note:**

> You can follow me on tumblr if you want. :)  
> @wlwtonystark


End file.
